


soft rains

by simonsrosebud



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: AU, Agatha Wellbelove - Freeform, Agatha Wellbelove's Life in California, Bisexual, Bisexual Simon Snow, Boyfriends, Coffee Shop, College Life, Enemies to Lovers, Gay, Human Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Kissing, Library, Love, M/M, Minor Penelope Bunce/Micah, Simon Snow - Freeform, SnowBaz, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, adopted simon snow, agatha is an American student studying abroad, based on my social media AU on tumblr, basilton pitch - Freeform, baz has a dog, baz works a little at coffee shop, but like not enemies for long so don't worry ab having to wait, carry on, happiness, idk what else to say uhh, penelope bunce - Freeform, simon works at library, violinist baz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonsrosebud/pseuds/simonsrosebud
Summary: “Um…” He scratched his head. “I just… um, it’s…” Anyone could see his face getting red from a mile away. So what did I do?I snorted and leaned back in my chair. “How can you possibly be a speech pathology major and not be able to form one coherent sentence?”-College is hard; So is working up the courage to tell the boy who thinks you hate him that you'd really like to kiss him instead.Baz isn't always like this around attractive blokes, he swears. And he wouldn't necessarily prefer to criticize this golden freckled boy whenever he sees him, but there's just something special about Simon Snow.Perhaps it's because he hasn't mustered up the courage to punch Baz square in the face yet.





	1. Agatha's Descent

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy this written version of the social media au I create on my tumblr @simonsrosebud
> 
> i'll announce when an update is coming on future tumblr social media au posts!!

**BAZ**

Yes, so I made the worst impression of myself to Simon Snow. What was I going to do, cry about it?

I’m a Pitch. We don't weep over nothing.

I was in class when it happened. More specifically my English Sign Language course. Snow had sat next to me on the first day as if he knew me and it took everything not to smile back or talk to him. Either one would have eventually ended with irreversible damage. To my heart, that is.

Instead, I did what any normal person would do. I teased him and snickered at him like he was the most annoying person I'd ever met. If only that were true.

Professor Possibelf was going over the times when to and when not to use sign language to communicate with a deaf person. It was all common sense, really; However when she asked Snow to repeat what she'd said (he had been doodling, of course), he froze and looked down at his notebook for a moment.

_**SIMON SNOW** _

_**SPEECH PATH** _

_**SIGN LANG. 001 BACHER HALL (MRS. POSIBELFF?)** _

His handwriting was atrocious. All capital letters and lead so dark that you’d think that his pencil would show through three more pages. It made me want to talk to him even more. A speech pathology major? It’s quite an interesting profession, I have to admit.

“Um…” He scratched his head. “I just… um, it’s…” Anyone could see his face getting red from a mile away. So what did I do?

I snorted and leaned back in my chair. “How can you possibly be a speech pathology major and not be able to form one coherent sentence?”

Possibelf had moved on, but Simon had shot me daggers for a minute straight. And again the next day, and every day after that.

 

**AGATHA**

****London is more crowded than I thought.

Granted, I don’t think I’ll ever be somewhere more crowded than New York City during Christmas, or maybe Disneyland on literally any holiday; I kind of envisioned myself just walking along the sidewalk alone. I really should have done more research. I’m not even sure I know where Penny is picking me up from. Or where luggage claim is, actually. Do European airports function the same way American ones do?

A string of text messages set my phone off once it turns back on. My roommates and parents all making sure I landed alright. They’re going to cost me a fortune.

I don’t know how I survived that flight without wifi.

 

**PENELOPE**

I have no interest in going to America other than to visit Micah, but by the time this Agatha girl leaves in May I’m sure I’m going to have another reason. If I even end up liking her, that is.

She kind of jogs towards me when she spots me and hugs me right off the bat. I can’t say I’m too surprised; My mum says that Americans can be touchy.

I talk her ear off a bit in the car, because Simon’s not quite the talker himself and he’s told me it makes him feel better to just listen instead sometimes. Frankly that’s about the only comparison I can make between them so far besides being blondes.

 

**SIMON**

Agatha is pretty.

That’s all there is to say about her- so far.

I think Penny wants me to have more of an opinion of her, but honestly I just met the girl two hours ago and Penny already knows I fancy guys a bit more than girls. She’d brought it up so randomly (we were talking about why she should _definitely_ watch Game of Thrones while Agatha was at an abroad students meeting) that it threw me off guard.

“What do you think of Agatha? She’s nice and pretty.” She’d given an eyebrow raise. Penny never gives eyebrow raises. Not to me. I normally don’t pick up on what she’s really trying to say. This time I had no problem.

So I itched my chin and looked out of the window. “I don’t really think I want a _girl_ friend, right now, you know?” And that was it. End of story.

 

**BAZ**

Simon Snow walks into Starbucks like he owns the place and within two seconds of seeing me he tries to cower out like a hurt dog. In doing so, he nearly trips over his own feet and grabs onto some bloke’s chair to keep himself upright. I wouldn’t mind if the stranger got incredibly mad at him for it. In a perfect world I’d swoop in and defend him for an honest mistake. Then he’d offer to buy me a drink and we’d snog once I walked him home.

But no world is that perfect, for me at least. So instead I smirk, because I can’t help it. Because he’s looking right at me and I may as well take the chance to acknowledge him.

Fiona kicks my shin. I clench my teeth and look her way. A second later, my mobile flashes with a message.

 

 **_Fiona (3:25pm):_ ** _who r u staring at? is it a boy?_

**_Baz (3:25pm)_** _Why are you texting me? I’m sat right across from you._

**_Fiona (3:25pm):_ ** _im bad at whispering. its a bloke, yeah? if u don’t tell me i’ll go ask him myself?_

 **_Baz (3:26pm) :_ ** _Jesus, he’s just in my sign language class. He thinks I hate him._

 **_Fiona (3:26pm):_ ** _why??_

 **_Baz (3:27pm):_ ** _I once asked him how he’s a speech pathology major if he can’t form a sentence._

 **_Fiona (3:27pm):_ ** _ur a fuckin idiot, ur supposed to flirt w/ ur crush not insult them_

**_Baz (3:28pm):_** _Thank you. Can we talk like normal people now?_

**_Baz (3:29pm):_ ** _And he’s not my crush. I’m 19, not 12._

 **_Fiona (3:29pm):_ ** _whatever_

 

“Now he’s gone.” Fiona looks around the place as subtle as she can. Which isn’t very much.

I swirl the straw around inside my cup and huff. “Like a normal person does after getting their drink.” She only shrugs and rolls her eyes. She makes me want to rip my hair out from time to time.

This is one of them.

 

**SIMON**

The thing about Baz Pitch is that he’s so attractive that I don’t care that he hates me. It’s frustrating, yes, but who ever said that it makes me want to kiss him less? Is this what it’s like to have a crush on a straight guy? (I hope Baz isn't straight. I once saw a tiny rainbow sticker on the back of his notebook).

I should be embarrassed by how I handled myself in Starbucks. I _am_ embarrassed. I was so startled to see him in there that I totally forgot to get a scone like I planned. It’s just that of all the times I go to that Starbucks I’ve never seen him there.

If Penny heard that she’d wave her hand and claim I’m making excuses not to talk to him.

“Everyone gets nervous, Simon," she’d say. “You just have to rip off the bandaid and get it over with.”

But that bandaid was already torn _months_ ago, and it only ended in the start of our rivalry. But is it really considered a rivalry if it’s only one sided? Maybe I just like the challenge.

 


	2. New Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Subtlety really isn’t your strong suit.”
> 
> He looks up at me. “What?”
> 
> I smirk, because I can't help it. And because, again, I'm an arse. “Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why but when I downloaded this to my iBooks only the first chapter and the very beginning of the second chapter showed up. It works normally every other way! Just not to iBooks. Hopefully I can figure it out!

**BAZ**

I remember seeing her the other day just over in the library. Crowded around Snow’s desk with Bunce like a lost rabbit.

She looks a bit like that now, actually. I can't say it's the real reason I approached her, but it's a good excuse. She _is_ friends with Snow, after all.

“You're a new face around here.” I'm sure I scare her. She looks at me with big doe eyes. She's beautiful; Stark blonde hair and clean cut features. Although I'm sure my jawline is sharper. I'd say that's a win for me.

She gives me a once over and smiles. “Guess you're a new face for me, too.” American. Interesting. Not a fan of their accents, but at least she doesn't have a southern one. Those just remind me of cowboys, hunting and homophobia; albeit stereotypes or not.

Hugging her arms tighter around herself, she looks even more bashful than when I first approached her. “I could get your number in case you'd like to show a new face around a bit more?”

Oh. Oh _no_.

I’ve been in this type of situation before, but no matter how many times it happens it never becomes normal. Or at least not awkward.

I take a breath and nod. “I’m uh, I’m gay, actually. So in case that was you trying to flirt I’m afraid I’m the wrong person to try it on.”

 

**AGATHA**

Oh my god. I just hit on a gay guy.

Oh my _god_.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this embarrassed. I can _feel_ my face turning beet red.

_Play it cool, Agatha._

“Of course, I was just practicing on anyone, you know?” I try to laugh it off, but my poor joke must actually come out better than I think because the guy smiles and nods. He even huffs a small laugh. He’s probably just being nice.

“Hand me your phone, love.” He holds his hand out.

I do as he says, because I’ve already screwed myself over enough for today, and watch him friend himself on my snapchat. “There," he says. “Now you’ve at least got a new _friendly_ face around here.” He hitches his bag higher onto his shoulder and takes a step back. “ _Just_ friendly.” He winks, and walks off to wherever he had been first heading, I assume.

I look at his Snapchat username.

_@BasilPitch_

 

**PENELOPE**

Simon comes over for dinner because he hates cooking on his own, and I almost forget about setting a plate out for Agatha because I’m not used to having more than two people in my friend group. She bursts in winded with a red face.

“I just tried flirting with a gay guy and it was the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.” She drops her bag next to the door.

Simon slurps up his noodles and nods. “I’ve flirted with straight guys before, I know how that feels.” It comes out garbled and mumbled, but I assume enough for her to understand, because she cocks her head as she slumps down into a chair.

“I didn’t know you’re gay.”

Simon shrugs. “Somewhat.” He ends on that, and it’s enough.

I nod at Agatha. “Who was the guy? Did you get his name?”

She shrugs. Bloody hell, her and Simon are the worst with that. “He gave me his Snapchat, the username said Basil Pitch. Don't know if that's his actual name or not, seems weird.”

 

**SIMON**

I’ve choked on food before. I used to shuffle it in too fast, especially when I had first moved into an actual home after being in shit boys homes. They had always fed us like we were five year olds. I was eleven, I was a growing kid. This time I choke because Basilton Grimm-Pitch is gay.

Penny pats my back a few times; I nearly choke for the second time just trying to talk again. “Long black hair? Tan-” I cough. “Tan skin? Like, Egyptian?” Agatha nods, and I let my head fall down onto the table. This is even worse than my situation before.

Not only did Baz hate me before, but before now I thought he was just a straight guy who didn’t like me. If he’s gay it means I have a chance with him- except I _don’t_ because once again: he hates me.

Penny rubs my shoulder. “Come on, Si, finish eating. We can mourn later.” Agatha laughs at that.

I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.

 

**BAZ**

The library on campus has three floors, the highest being the quietest- which is good since I tend to be one for concentration. So _why_ I find myself on the ground floor nearly every time I come is infuriating. All for an idiot who can’t even shelf _one_ book correctly.

I peer around the side of the shelf and over to Simon at the desk. I can’t help it. He’s got his chin in his hand while he watches something on that dinosaur of a computer at the front desk. It’s probably not something that should come off as endearing.

I slump back down in my seat with two different Mythology books when Simon snorts into his hand. His eyes are crinkled at the corners and his shoulders hunched in laughter. And when he looks up I raise a brow his way. You know, because showing emotion is a crime.

Simon frowns and hides himself away, and it makes me want to just storm up to him and tell him that I didn’t mean it; That he’s actually cute when he laughs; That I’m a complete and utter arsehole.

I won’t be getting any work done tonight.

 

**SIMON**

I’m not paying attention to the library for the most part, so it doesn’t surprise me that I jump at the sound of books slapping the counter. It also doesn’t surprise me that Basilton Grimm-Pitch is the one dropping them off.

He comes in almost everyday to study in his stupid pressed slacks with his fancy expensive macbook and that infuriatingly attractive _look_ that he always gives me. He's so hot that it makes me mad. _He_ makes me mad. In all his rude glory.

 _Gay_ glory. Because that’s a thing I know for sure now.

I snort at a scene in The Office (Penny hates the show, but she told me I’d like it. She lets me use her Netflix account). My hand is over my mouth to at least _try_ to conceal the sound. It doesn’t help.

He flicks his eyes up from his laptop, one eyebrow raised and surely a smirk on his face. I frown and clear my throat, hiding behind my own computer screen. What a tosser.

My manager is lucky that I don't really have a life, otherwise there would be no one to take all the shitty shifts. I just need the money.

When it goes on nine o’clock most of the students are gone. _He's_ still here, but he looks like he wants to die, if I'm being honest.

Penny says sometimes I'm too honest.

Baz is typing away on his laptop, stopping to look at his notebook every so often. He looks like a right mess with all the different books out on his table. I kind of want to do a walk by to see just what he’s doing, but he’s such a frequent visitor that he’d _know_ I’m not really going to put things away. There’s never usually anything to shelf this late anyway. And when there is I try to leave it for the people with the morning shifts.

I peek my head up over the desk computer one more time.

I wish he’d notice me.

 

**BAZ**

I pretend not to see him staring so blatantly at me. I revel in it. His attention. It’s the first time he’s bothered to look at me for more than five seconds.

I glance up in spite, how can I not?

Simon, once again caught staring, pulls himself back too quickly, elbow hitting the computer monitor. He hisses, but he then continues to cause chaos by jerking his arm away so fast that his _other_ arm grazes a pencil cup and folder enough to push them off the edge of the front desk.

He’s an absolute nightmare.

I contemplate for a second on whether to play it cool or kind, but I really don’t have a choice. I find myself taking a few long strides over to scoop up his papers. They’re all from the sign language class we share.

At least I'm being nice. He thinks I despise him way too much.

Simon's already on the other side of the desk and scrambling back into his chair. He looks jittery. Is that because of me?

“Sorry," he mutters. I hand him his papers. “Oh, thanks, sorry. I’m- sorry, just, I was just... zoning out.”

As if I can let myself believe that. “Subtlety really isn’t your strong suit.”

He looks up at me. “What?”

I smirk, because I can't help it. And because, again, I'm an arse. “Nothing.”

I turn around to return to my table. Too much and he’ll get suspicious. Maybe. He’s kind of thick.

“Wait.” He finally sets the pencil cup back on the desk. “Um, I’m Simon Snow.”

I just nod and stand my ground. I must look like a deer caught in the road. “I’m… aware. We share a course.” I let my one brow slowly rise. The wonders that facial expressions can work. “Baz. Grimm-Pitch.”

“I know.” Simon pinches his eyes shut and pulls one of the ratty strings on his jumper. “I mean, not until recently. My friend knows you… kind of, not much, just a bit, um, like a class or-or something.”

Holy shit. He’s so _flustered_.

And he’s even _lying_. Terribly, might I add. He’s known my name since we first met.

 

**SIMON**

I’m not _nervous,_ but I’m just embarrassing myself so _much_ right now. It's ridiculous.

Baz smiles a bit. Had I still thought he was just a snobby rich kid then I’d think it was taunting. Not that he isn’t a snobby rich kid, because who knows, but at least he seems nicer when he’s not actually making jabs at me.

He takes a few steps forward and leans his hip into the front desk. His legs are long, it’s where he gets all that height.

“Simon?”

“Huh? What?”

“I asked who your friend is.”

“Oh.” My cheeks feel hot. Did someone upstairs turn the heat up? “Penny Bunce? Uh, short, Indian, a little chubby? She’s pretty awesome, got purple hair, right now. She’s _so_ smart.”

He makes a face for a split second. I don't say anything about it, I don't think he intended on me noticing. “She’s your girlfriend, then?”

What?

That's new. I don't think I’ve ever had anyone think of Penny as my _girlfriend_ before. At least out loud to my face.

I frown. “ _No_ , I’m bi- well, I mean, that-that doesn't... explain anything.” I bite my nail. “Just forget I… We’re not dating. M’not really... into girls, right now.”

 

**BAZ**

I don't think I've ever heard Simon Snow talk that much in my life. Or that sporadically. This is brilliant.

I take a step back. “Good to know," I say.

I’m going to kiss him eventually. It just won't be today.

 


	3. The Art of Meddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don't hate you, Snow.” Far from it, rather.
> 
> I wish I could say just so. I don't think I have the guts. Not that others need to know that.

**BAZ**

Sometimes, Simon Snow posts the most random shit on his Twitter. Sometimes it's what gets me through the day.

I’m looking at his “I miss my regulars at the library right now” post- and currently coughing on my water because _I'm_ one of his most frequent regulars, when I get a message from Agatha on Snapchat. I’ve got to be honest, I didn’t think she’d ever get in contact with me after her slip up.

 

 **_Agatha (8:39pm):_ ** _hi Baz! i hope it's not weird of me to txt you after my embarrassment, but I don't have many friends here just yet so ur not quite off the hook_

 **_Baz (8:41pm):_ ** _And yet that doesn't surprise me at all._

 **_Agatha (8:42pm):_ ** _good. while we're talking… i have a friend u might actually be interested in_

 ** _Agatha (8:42pm):_ ** _and it's a boy this time_

 ** _Baz (8:42pm):_ ** _I would hope so_

 ** _Baz (8:43pm):_ ** _I've got my eye on someone however, I don't think I'd be of much interest_

 ** _Agatha (8:43pm):_ ** _ur as stubborn & troublesome as I thought you'd be, I like it. can I at least tell you his name?_

 ** _Baz (8:44pm):_ ** _Yes, but don't expect me to be impressed_

 **_Agatha (8:44pm):_ ** _it's simon snow_

Water snorts out of my nose, and it kind of hurts like a bitch. Thank god I'm in the safety of my bedroom.

 **_Baz (8:47pm):_ ** _I'm impressed_

I leave my phone alone for a good five minutes, but the name in a grey bubble is just _sitting_ there.

Fuck me.

 ** _Baz:_ ** _Meet me at the campus library in twenty minutes._

 

**AGATHA**

Baz is one of the strangest people I’ve met. I think it has something to do with his obvious interest in Simon- not that it’s creepy. He just expresses it very unusually.

I’m not stupid. I can tell when someone has a crush on someone else. Especially when their first response to hearing the others name is _“I’m impressed”._ Really Baz?

I’m already leaning against the front desk talking with Simon when said boy comes in, sunglasses on and hands deep in the pockets of his perfectly pressed pants. Simon lets out a sigh when he spots him, and in return Baz scowls right at him. He’s got a murderous glare.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a date with my number one nemesis," he says it quietly, we are in a library after all, but Baz picks it up as if it was aimed for himself instead.

Wait.

Did Simon just forget the whole part of me hitting on a gay guy? And that Baz was the gay guy? He nearly choked on his food, after all.

Baz takes his sunglasses off and hangs them from his shirt. “Don’t get too hung up on me, Snow.” He smirks, the devil. “I’m not into the ladies either.”

 

**SIMON**

Oh.

_Oh._

I look back, where Baz and Agatha have disappeared into the shelves. Did he really just do that?

I don't even get a break of him, because then he's planting three books and his palms onto my desk. He nearly scares the shit out of me. “I need to check these out.” His face is blank and unreadable, which although frustrating it's still expected. Maybe it's me staring up at him for too long of a moment, because he drops his hands from the desk. “Please.”

 _Please_. I think that may be the nicest thing that Baz has ever said to me. I say just as much, and it seems to set him straight again.

 

**BAZ**

I frown and stand straight. Nicest thing I've said to him my arse.

“That's not true.” I scoff. He raises his eyebrows and purses his lips, like he’s disagreeing without saying so. “I don't _hate_ you, Snow.” Far from it, rather.

I wish I could say just so. I don't think I have the guts. Not that others need to know that. To anyone else I’m not afraid of anything.

 

**AGATHA**

When Baz comes back to our table in the back I wait for him to tell me what happened. He doesn't. Penny has told me that Simon can be thick but _jesus_ , so can Basil.

I clear my throat and nod towards Simon.

He slumps into his seat and rolls his eyes. “He knows I don’t hate him, so there’s progress.” He stares into his coffee before taking a long sip. And when he catches my eye he huffs. “ _What_ , Wellbelove? I pushed him down the stairs once, he’s not going to just _fall_ in love with me because I act _civil_ with him once.”

What?!

"You pushed him down the stairs?!" He shushes me and waves me off.

"It was accidental, but I don't think he ever knew that."

I should never have taken a task as hard as getting these two to stop being children and use their heads for once. Or at least their hearts. Matchmaking is hard labor, they should have to just pine over each other until one of them has enough of it.

There’s a book that reminds me of this. Of them. Where the one thought they were enemies while the other was just madly in love with him. Carry On, I believe it was. Granted the characters were roommates, they had magic, and one was a vampire.

But they were both still as stubborn as Simon and Baz.

 

**BAZ**

 I don’t know which one I hate more, Agatha’s meddling, or Simon’s surprise every time I walk up to the desk. Or every time he sees me, really. Why can’t it be normal to see me? I long to see him when I can. He’s the sun. It’s like he sprouts white light everywhere he goes.

My coworker at the cafe even draws little smiley faces on his cups- and she even hates writing _names_ on them for normal people.

I leave my drink to get cold (fuck you for that Agatha), and stroll over to Simon. All cool and collected, as I always am. “Snow.” He looks up. I grab ahold of the cart of book returns. “Come with me.”

If I’m going to say fuck it and flirt with him, I’m going to do it like the arsehole I am. “You’re shit at shelving books after they’ve been returned- I know because I’ve _seen_ you do it incorrectly.” His face scrunches up at that, but no response. I’m not surprised; He knows he’s awful.

 

**SIMON**

I don’t know how Baz knows how to do this right off the top of his head better than me. I _work_ here.

I can’t even say I’m surprised. He’s fucking good at _everything_.

I can feel his eyes on where I’m putting things. “That…” He grabs my wrist and guides it over. I almost flinch; His hands are like ice. “Goes over here.” I don’t need his help to actually slide the book onto the shelf, but he still leads my hand all the way through.

I shouldn’t be winded. I shouldn’t be out of breath by a single touch so small that I could forget it in an instant. But I am; And it’s bad; And I’m so whipped that it’s not funny.

I drop my hand. A small flicker of hope that he catches it sparks in my chest, but that would be ridiculous. It would. Plus, he doesn’t like me like _that_. (I think. I hope not).

A group of guys burst out into laughter somewhere near the computers and start shouting at each other. Most likely over something stupid. I huff. “I hate the library. This place is supposed to be _quiet_ .” I lean away from the shelf to try and get a glimpse of the group. It’s not until then that I realize Baz and I are literally in the back of the library. Of all people, _I_ got lucky for once and ended up shelving books with him in the blocked off _corner_ of the whole fucking library, for bloody sake. If I were in an American teenage show, one thing would eventually lead to another and Basilton Pitch and I would get each other off right there.

But that’s illogical.

_Get your head out of the gutter, Simon._

Baz shrugs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do such a thing. Normally he always has an answer at the ready, for me at least. “That’s why people normally study on the upper floors.” There it is.

Wait, what?

 

**BAZ**

Simon motherfucking Snow doesn’t _know_ . And he _works_ here.

I know I should be showing off how friendly I can normally be (or at least how friendly I’d like to be with _him_ ), but this is just too much. It’s gold.

I let out a laugh and clamp my hand over my mouth. “Snow…” He frowns at me, his brows all scrunched up. The pout on his face is irritatingly cute, but he only rolls his eyes when I laugh a little more.

“I didn’t know there was another floor! I’ve only ever worked down _here_!”

“You’ve never noticed that this building is a little taller?”

“I didn’t know it was another _library_!” He huffs and storms off, but not before I grab ahold of his wrist and pull him back.

“Snow- hey, I’m only poking fun at you, no need to get all jittery.” His skin is hot, so warm against my fingers. His head seems to run hot as well, I shouldn’t be surprised; I just haven’t ever let myself think of what his hand might feel like in my own. It would drive me insane.

I snap back to reality and drop his hand. “Come on, stairs to the second floor are in the back.”

I start walking without taking a look at him. I’m pretty sure he just stands there for a moment before running up next to me. “Hey, if the upper floors are quieter then how come you always study down here? People down here are fucking annoying sometimes, and you’re _always_ studying here.”

So bloody thick.

I don’t look at him. I can see enough of his golden head in my peripheral. Also, that’s just too much intimacy for me. And it’s only eye contact.

“Why do you think, Snow?”

 

**AGATHA**

Where the fuck did Baz go?


	4. Simon's Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I laugh. I can’t help it. Baz sneers, of course, and tries to step back, but I just grab his arm to keep him there. “Was there ever a project with Agatha?” I’m not exceedingly thick. I know she doesn’t take Greek, of all languages.

**BAZ**

The next time I see Simon in class he smiles as soon as he spots me and makes his way through the aisles to grab the seat on my left. I don’t say anything because I’m honestly too surprised, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. He just takes his laptop out of his bag and turns towards me.

“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around the library," he says. I’m probably gaping at him by now, because even if we were friendly that one night he’s still done three things that he’s never given me the courtesy of. Smiling at me, sitting next to me (at least not after I made my very first jab at him), and talking to me as if we’ve been friends ever since we started at uni.

He’s also just wearing the most hideous purple jumper.

I clear my throat and look at my phone to keep myself busy. “It’s only been three days, Snow.”

“You called me Simon before.” He smirks at me, like he has any right to steal my signature expression. But he’s right. I did call him Simon. I’m such an idiot.

_I don’t know how I did it. Mentally, that is. I’m a night person, sure, but how my conscious just let me spend the rest of Simon Snow’s shift with him is beyond my knowledge._

_I wait for him to grab his bag and clock out, and then we walk out together, our shoulders occasionally bumping and his bicep grazing against my elbow too many times to count. It’s like he has no sense of personal space and for once I’m not complaining. It's comforting. It almost feels normal; It definitely shouldn't._

_I stop just outside the door when seeing him drift to the left instead of the right where my place is headed. It seems that our flats are both in opposite directions. It’s good, actually. I’ve waited months to be able to have a normal few hours with him, but bloody hell I need to limit myself. He’s overwhelming in the best way._

_“I’m this way.” He knocks his thumb behind him and sucks his lip in between his teeth. “Um… I’ll see you?”_

_I nod and smile a tad. It’s the least I can do. “I’ll see you, Simon.”_

I frown. He's right, but that doesn't mean I like to be wrong. “No, I don't think I did.” I feel a tiny bit bad for denying such a small thing, but I can't help it. It's like it's in my blood.

Simon shrugs and turns his laptop on. “Did you and Agatha finish your project, then?” I raise a brow. “She said that's why you guys were at the library together?”

Smart girl. “Yes, sorry. We haven't actually finished it, but she hasn't been able to join me in the library in the past few days, so I haven't gone.” I look forward. The empty desk of our professor is a lot less nerve-racking than the eyes of Simon Snow.

Speaking of, he hums in agreement and lets a silence fall between us. I'd normally say that it's the worst experience of my life, but in the real world it's quite tranquil.

When Simon speaks again it sounds like he's choking. He's just nervous, of course, but my mind has proven to be a bit twisted sometimes. “You uh… You could always just, like… I'm there most of the time.” He clicks his pen over and over. I'm not even sure why he's got one out- he hasn't got a notebook in sight. “If you wanted, you could just sit with me.”

“What?”

“At the library… ”

“Where you work?”

“I don’t actually do much working when I’m there.” He slumps back in his chair. “But I won’t be there until around six o’clock today. I’ve got rugby just before my shift.”

Oh lord save me now. Simon Snow? Playing _rugby_? It’s a miraculous sight even in my mind. Imagine, a sweaty curly haired kid strutting up to me alone in the team room after a match. He’d walk me back against a row of lockers and plant his hands on the wall beside my head. He’d kiss me and then I’d lick the sweat from his cheek. Which is gross. (I’ve got problems, at least I admit it).

No wonder his legs are bulky and muscular.

“If you’d want to.”

What?

“What?”

Simon sucks his lip in between his teeth. “Come to the library later? Just thought I’d offer in case you really needed to work on the project… Um, what class is it for, anyway?”

What class _is_ it for? Wellbelove and I don’t have any together, I was lucky to even catch her outside the one day. “Greek.”

Fuck. There’s no way Agatha takes Greek.

Simon pouts like he’s thinking harder than his brain can handle. “I didn’t think she was taking a language… I guess she needs to know some Greek- she’s in a sorority at her school in California. Must be a requirement.”

I try so hard. _So_ hard not to crack, but it’s kind of impossible. I’m attracted to a moron.

“We don’t _have_ sororities and fraternities at our school, Snow. Surely you’re wrong.” I lean away from him. Not that we were particularly close in the first place, but he’s too much to even be two feet from right now.

Simon lets it go anyway and pays attention to the professor. It’s about time, too. I can’t subtly stare at the way his joggers strain across his thighs if he’s paying attention to me. They’ve practically been in my face since he sat down. (Snow can’t pay attention to anything but one thing at a time. It’s infuriating, but also helpful).

 

**SIMON**

Baz is intimidating, and I can never tell what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s _not_ really thinking. Maybe I’m overthinking.

No, he’s definitely thinking something up. I just can’t tell whether it’s to my favour or not. I’ve tried flirting with him ruthlessly. Kind of. I’m pretty bad at it.

Scratch that. I’m bloody awful at it. I feel like a right git trying to flirt with Baz. Sometimes I feel like he’s flirting back, but other times I think he’s just taking the piss. I really hope he isn’t.

He comes into the library later that evening, just like I wished he would. He’s without Agatha, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to hang out with me. He could just be going to his normal table to sit alone- just like he’s doing now.

I slump back in my seat and grab a pen. Least I can do is look disappointed. In reality I’m sure I just look like a child. I feel like one too.

 

**BAZ**

I can’t just go up to him. That would be desperate. Which I am, but he doesn’t ever need to know.

“Snow.” I open up my laptop. When he snaps his head up I invite him over with a tilt of my head. He grins. That wide, shit eating, gorgeous smile that’s way too big for his face right now. It drives me insane. Always.

“Couldn’t tell if you wanted me to sit with you or not.” He pulls his chair in and crosses his legs as he sits down.

I smirk. “You’re literally the reason why I came.” I stand. I need books. On anything. I really just need to get up and moving if I’m going to flirt with him. I need to be doing something while I sweet talk the idiot. Beautiful idiot.

He follows me into the shelves. Possibly the only reason I enjoy coming here late is because no one else is here. Not usually, at least.

“You never know. You always sit at that table when you _don’t_ come for me, so.” He shrugs.

I turn around. I even manage to meet his eyes. “I _always_ come here for you, Simon.” That leaves him gaping. “I’ve got google at my fingertips and a quiet flat to myself, I don’t _need_ to come to the library to do work. I just do it for you.”

 

**SIMON**

I’ve never moved so quick before, not even in rugby. But Baz is just standing there, telling me things I never would’ve imagined would come from his mouth. It’s impossible not to kiss him.

His mouth is warm. So unlike how I’d envisioned every time I saw his cold demeanor in the past. But this- this is so different. Here- _now_ , his mouth is warm, and his hands are big and pressed into my back, and his hair is so soft I want to bury my nose in it.

Baz pulls away first. I don’t want him to, but he’s breathing heavy-ish and he presses his forehead against mine when our lips pop apart, so it’s okay. I accept it.

I laugh. I can’t help it. Baz sneers, of course, and tries to step back, but I just grab his arm to keep him there. “Was there ever a project with Agatha?” I’m not _exceedingly_ thick. I know she doesn’t take Greek, of all languages.

He won’t admit to it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get it out of him even if I spend years trying, but the fact that he knows that I know is enough.

I let my hand fall and he catches it. “We should probably try that again, Snow.”

“You called me Simon before.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Right before you kissed me.”

“ _You_ kissed _me_ , dolt.”

I’m grinning. I can’t help myself. “Since we can’t agree, we definitely should just do it again.”

Baz sort of rolls his eyes, but there’s a slight smile in place of his usual smirk. “To test your theory.”

“Of course.”

“Fine.” He takes me by the neck and pushes his lips against mine. Hell, I’d test hypothesis’ all day if the subject were the effect of Baz Pitch’s mouth.


	5. Bookstore Antics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear I’ll pull all my hair out of my head with how much I “angry pull” on it. I can’t help it. I’m a fucking idiot when it comes to flirting, or whatever the hell that just was. Definitely doesn’t qualify as flirting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i suck at naming chapters as we can tell. anyway, sorry for such a long gap in between updates!! i hope you all enjoy this one! if you're familiar with the media au on tumblr you may know what's coming up!

**BAZ**

I gave Snow my mobile number. I _didn't_ regret it, we had just snogged for a good five minutes and again before I left.

But now I can't tell whether I regret it or not. He hasn't texted me at all yet and it's been a full nineteen hours.

I keep telling myself to stop relying on it- on him. I've gone months without even paying attention to him. The whole past summer without letting him take over my mind. (Except when I got off to the thought of him kissing my neck and tugging on my hair. But I try never to think of that. Bad move) (Every time I spend too long thinking about Simon Snow is a bad move).

I send a text message to Agatha. Because I'm dramatic.

 **Baz (4:13pm):** _Your plan was stupid and failed._

 **Agatha (4:16pm):** _what do u mean?? simon said u guys like totally hit it off last night !_

 **Baz (4:17pm):** _I gave him my mobile last night and haven't heard from him since._

And then I get two pings right back. One from miss blonde beauty, and the other from a number I don't have.

_Please, be from the idiot._

I don't even bother looking at what Agatha said. My eyes are on the first string of words I can see in the message preview. After all, I can't let him know I read it instantly. I've got to make him wait, now.

_hey baz, i was wondering if u maybe want to come to…_

 

**SIMON**

“He’s not answering.”

“You snogged him and then didn’t text him for nearly a day, Simon,” Penny says. But then again she’s paying all her attention to her laptop.

Who am I kidding, Penny’s right no matter what.

“What do I do?”

“Nothing.”

“ _Penny_!”

“I’m serious, Simon!” She gives me pleading eyes. “Just wait a bit, don’t bother him too much.” She bites on her nails. That’s become her latest habit. “Or do, I don’t much care, really.”

I huff and lean further back into the couch.

 **Simon (4:19pm):** _hey baz, i was wondering if u maybe want to come to my rugby match this saturday? and we can get coffee after_

 **Simon (4:23pm):** _i mean u don’t have to obvi but i feel bad w u always hanging around the library_

 **Simon (4:24pm):** _i mean i dont feel BAD i like when u come !!_

 **Simon (4:24pm):** _i just thought we could maybe hang out somewhere besides work or class_

 **Simon (4:24pm):** _if u want_

 **Simon (4:24pm):** _it could be fun_

 **Simon (4:25pm):** _sorry_

“ _Fuck_.” I swear I’ll pull all my hair out of my head with how much I “angry pull” on it. I can’t help it. I’m a fucking idiot when it comes to flirting, or whatever the hell that just was. Definitely doesn’t qualify as flirting.

“What’s wrong?” Agatha bounds down the staircase and sits crossed legged by my side. “Texting Baz?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I frown. “Far from it, rather.” I toss her my phone. “I probably scared him off, I sounded like a madman.”

She giggles, and scrunches her nose. “ _I like it when you come._ ” She snorts and giggles some more.

I throw a couch pillow at her.

 

**BAZ**

I can’t stop smiling. I think it’s freaking Zoey out. She keeps tilting her head at me and climbing on my lap in between me and my phone.

 **Baz (4:27pm):** _Rugby would be fun to watch. At least if you’re playing. Not sure I really know how it’s played, though._

 **Baz (4:28pm):** _And don’t worry, I quite liked your sporadic texting. It’s cute._

 **Simon (4:29pm):** _thank god, i was worried i’d scared u off with it_

 **Baz (4:30pm):** _Nothing could scare me._

 **Simon (4:30pm):** _that also doesn't surprise me_

I drop my phone onto my chest and look over at Zoey. “Would it be too clingy to go see him at the library, girl?” She just gets up and slumps down on my lap. “You’re not a lap dog, idiot.” I kiss her head and scratch behind her ear with one hand.

 **Baz (4:32pm):** _What are you doing right now?_

**SIMON**

Hanging out with Baz in the library or in class is easy. We’re both in class because we have to be there, and normally when he comes to the library he has work to do while he sits with me.

But I’ve never hung out with him anywhere besides that. Obviously that’s why I’d asked him to go to my rugby match so that we could get coffee after. I would’ve had time to prepare myself.

 _This_ is not something I can prepare for.

I drop my spoon and nearly drop my phone too as soon as I read the text, but Penny’s closer and snatches it before me. She sends me a pointed look. “You’re the worst person when it comes to doing _anything_ while you’re eating, Simon.”

I huff and lean across the table. Penny leans back. “Penny! It’s Baz, give it over!”

Agatha takes it from Penny and slides it over to me, yawning before going back to whatever worksheet she was filling out. “Thanks.”

I'm a grinning maniac when I text him back.

 **Simon (4:35pm):** _nothin, just eatin cereal_

 **Baz (4:37pm):** _Would you want to go to the bookstore with me? I’ve got to get some textbook but we could walk around after_

 **Simon (4:37pm):** _a BOOKSTORE? u want me to go against my job? how frightening baz_

 **Baz (4:38pm):** _Don’t you want to be a little daring from time to time?_

 **Simon (4:39pm):** _i’ll meet u there in 15_

 

**BAZ**

Simon Snow is going to be the death of me. He’s already the biggest dork ever, and taking him into the bookstore makes it even worse. Though I think it’s solely because he managed to find the comics as soon as he walked in.

I get my textbook and after I’ve paid I join him on the floor. Thank god the comics are in the back of the store. It makes what I want to do so much fucking easier.

 

**SIMON**

Baz sits down next to me and looks over at the comic in my hands. Deadpool. I mean, he’s just iconic, is he not? I’d date him.

Deadpool. I’d date Deadpool.

I think I’d definitely date Baz, though.

“Didn’t take you for the comic kind,” he says. His legs are outstretched, but they’re so long that his knees are bent so that his feet aren’t up on the shelf across from us.

I shrug. “I had problems talking and reading when I was a kid, so I always resorted to comics instead. They were easier to take in.” He’s looking at me when I glance up, so I look right back down at my lap. I can feel my cheeks get hot.

A calm silence goes between us for a while. Baz watches me read, or maybe he’s reading it along with me, but eventually he leans closer. “Do you feel like a badass?”

Oh my god.

I laugh because I can’t really help it. Also because he’s so close to me and it makes me nervous.

I roll my eyes and look at him. “Oh yes, I feel like a _total_ kickass library spy-”

He kisses me.

Baz plants his hands on my face and his mouth on mine and I forget that _I’m_ the one who made the first move only yesterday. I just feel like a giddy kid.

Oh, I should kiss him back.

I put a hand on his thigh and push back against his lips, and I think he smiles a tiny bit because I can feel his mouth opening for just a split second before he takes the opportunity to put his tongue into my mouth. And _that_ feels good.

It’s almost impossible to forget that we’re snogging in a bookstore, but Baz has one hand on the back of my neck and the other gripping my chin and it’s so hot that I don’t even care. If it isn’t for him pulling back I would have just kept going.

And going and going and going. _Oh the places you’ll go (when snogging the hottest bloke in London)._

Baz doesn’t lose his grip on my chin, but he smooths his thumb over my lip. Red and swollen. Hopefully. I’ve got zero shame in people knowing for sure that we just made out.

“I want this to become a regular thing.” His hand moves to hold the side of my face- his fingers are calloused but his hand is big and warm and _god_ , I _try_ not to lean into his touch but it feels so good.

I smile at him. My eyes are all over his face; He’s inches away and I don’t know whether to focus on his pretty eyes or his soft bowed lips. “Adventures to the bookstore or what goes on inside them?”

“You’re such a pain,” he says, but he’s smiling wide and slides his hand into my hair when he kisses me again. “Go on a date with me.”

I kiss him again.

“That a yes?”

“We’re literally sucking faces in a bookstore, Baz. I’m pretty sure that’s a yes.”

 


	6. Some Superheroes Wear Rugby Jersey's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope he never stops playing rugby. For everybody's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry for the delayed updates!! sometimes you've got to take a break to get back into the groove if you know what i mean, LOL!! i really hope to be updating a lot more frequently !!

**BAZ**

Simon Snow is a fucking force to be reckoned with. On the rugby pitch, that is. 

But also off the pitch, if you get what I'm saying.

I've never seen him in shorts this small, and I have to keep looking at other people to distract myself from his thighs. They're thick and toned as fuck. I hope he never stops playing rugby. For everybody's sake.

But then suddenly Penelope Bunce is at my side with knee high socks and a hideous sweater. And yet somehow she looks normal in it. “I didn't know you were coming, Baz.” She's got a hint of a smile in her gaze. 

Bullshit. “Really,” I say. “Snow, for once, didn't tell you- of _all_ people, something about the bloke he's been seeing.” It would be hard to believe no matter who his best friend was. 

She tries not to smile, but laughs instead. “You're good. I've got to say, I always knew Simon had a crush on you, but I never really expected it to go anywhere.” And I must frown at that- how can I _not,_ because she raises her eyebrows. “You weren't on friendly terms for months. You pushed him down the _stairs_!”

“ _That_ was a misunderstanding.”

She shrugs. “Anyhow. It was quite entertaining. You went from glaring at him to complimenting him within seconds.” 

“I'm just a versatile person.”

And _then,_ Agatha shows up as well and boxes me in next to Bunce. “Oh, hi Baz!” Her smile is warm, but it’s nowhere near the sun. That one's taken.

I give Wellbelove a nod and turn back towards the match before they can start another conversation. I don’t understand enough of how rugby works to follow along well, but I don't want anything tearing me away from watching Simon Snow sweat. And when the match is over (they win, of course), he runs over to us three on the side of the pitch.

I can see his eyes wander my way when he hugs his friends. Snow sends them both bright smiles and kisses on the cheeks, and Penny mumbles something to him when he squeezes her. Something about me, surely. I try not to think about what it could be; the thought sends my chest up in flames.

“Did they bother you?” Simon says in my ear when he hugs me. A sweaty, short breathing Simon could set me off. I can’t help but imagine him pushing me up against the wall in the locker room after a match, but that’s a pipedream as of now.

“No,” I say.

When he pulls away he grins so bright that I think for a moment that it’s summer again. “You wanna go get coffee with me?”

I nod. “Yeah, do you have to wash up?”

“Nah.” He shrugs and slings his rugby bag over his shoulder.

I’m not surprised when he leads us to the place that I work at. Does he even know I work here? Probably not, before _this_ started he’d tried to avoid me like the black plague.

I get both of our drinks on the house and follow him towards the back. “So about that date…” There’s a shiny smile in his eyes.

“Oh I haven’t forgotten, Simon.” I just want to make him smile over and over again. Hell, if solely calling him Simon does that then so be it.

“Just wanted to make sure you were for real about what you'd said,” he says. “About wanting this to become a regular thing.”

I cock my head. Can't help it. “Course I'm serious. If your friends hadn't been at the game then I would've kissed you all the way back to the lockers.” I can’t believe I say it, but there’s no turning back. Especially when he turns bright red at that. I consider it a surprising win.

He whispers, “That's good.” And looks around. “Um. Do you… there's never anyone on the top floor in the library this time of day.”

Is Simon Snow asking me to go to the library with him solely to hook up in the shelves? I know _he's_ not a book junkie, but I think it's the hottest thing he's done so far. And I just watched him play a full rugby match in short shorts.

“You're dangerous, Snow,” I say. “But if you don't mind, lead the way.”

 

**SIMON**

Baz kisses like it's the last thing he's going to do on Earth. He pushes against me and practically massages the back of my head with his hand. The other hand is on the collar of my jersey.

“You know how much of a tease you are in this thing?” He mumbles against my mouth. I don’t know what to say to that- I’ve never been a great flirt, so I just pull him closer and keep a firm hand on his neck to keep him at my level. He’s a tad taller than me, anyway.

“I didn’t know you liked rugby,” I say.

Baz shrugs. In all my time knowing him he’s never _not_ had a verbal response to shoot back, but as of late it’s like he’s been stealing my signature move. Maybe I make him speechless. That’s surely something nice to think about.

“I don’t know shit about rugby. Just enjoy watching you play.”

Oh. Right.

I don't say anything else, so Baz kisses me again and let's my collar go in favor of holding the side of my face. I run hot, especially after matches, and his hands are cold. It’s like we’re _supposed_ to balance each other out. 

“Saturday night.”

I’m so fresh off of his mouth that it's still the only thing coursing through my head for a second. “Huh?”

“That date I promised you.”

 _Fuck._ How could I have forgotten about _that?_ I was the one who brought it up in the coffee shop.

“Am I ever gonna find out what it is?”

Baz lifts his chin. Posh and confident. “No. Not until then. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“Yeah, no, no, yeah, I’m… should we meet somewhere?”

 

**BAZ**

Will we meet somewhere? We have to, don't we? We've only been more than friendly for a short amount of time as it is- I'm not sure I'm ready to see his place just yet. Simon Snow standing alone is enough to send me overboard. I can’t deal with peering into the rest of his life like that; the smell of him everywhere I step; his personal things within grasp of me; the intimate feeling that comes with even standing in someone else’s personal private space.

Is it just me who thinks like this? Who _feels_ like this?

“I can pick you up or I can meet you somewhere, if you'd prefer that.”

He bites his lip and thinks about it for a second, and then it occurs to him that his hand is still on the back of my neck- not that I mind. He drops it anyway (I’m too weak to tell him to keep it there) and smiles. “I’d say you could pick me up but then Penny will camp out at my place so she can see us off.” He pauses. “She’s weird like that.”

“I kind of figured. She has a vibe to her.”

That makes him smile, thank bloody hell, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Meet me? I don't mind where we go, it's up to you.”

“Oh, don't worry, Snow, I've already got the whole thing planned.”

When I tell him a time and place to meet me tomorrow night he grins harder than he has all day (which seems impossible seeing as whenever he so much as quirks his lips it mirrors a bloody sunrise). It makes me nauseous in the sense that I can't believe I get to be the one to make him look like that, much less _feel_ like that.

I just hope I can keep it that way. If I fuck this up, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

 


	7. Orchestrated First Dates

**BAZ**

Standing in front of an orchestra hall isn't something new to me.  Standing in front of an orchestra hall waiting for Simon Snow to show up for a _date_ , is something so fresh and scary that it sets my nerves aflame.

Whether I ever go on another date again is riding on if he shows or not.  He's a little bit late, but god I hope for my sake, and his, that he makes an appearance.

 

**SIMON**

I'm late. Fuck me. I'm running late and I'm freaking out because my tie is falling out of its knot (not that I did incorrectly in the first place) and I can't stand the thought of Baz just _waiting_ there, possibly feeling like an idiot. I hope he doesn't think I've stood him up.

I turn the corner as fast as I can without slipping, because of course it's raining a little, and slam right into a body. It’s taller than me, that's for sure, and smells like cigarettes. I nearly go flying if not for somehow catching myself mid stumble. I almost expect it to be Baz, but Baz definitely isn't a middle-aged man.

“Sor-Sorry.” I turn away and around, and he's standing behind me next to the steps with wide eyes. This is _so_ bad. I don't remember dating being this hard. “Hi.” I breathe. I think that guy may have knocked something out of me, if not my breath.

I've _seen_ Baz smile bigger than he does right now, which sets me off again. “Oh! Oh my god, I'm so sorry for running late! I-I had to get my slacks from the cleaners and the tube on the way here was packed to the _brim_ , I-I swear I didn't mean to have you waiting long.” He looks intrigued, not mad. “Were you?… Waiting long…?”

He quirks his lip, then, and reaches up to pull my tie off. “No. Not nearly as long as you're worrying over.” He slides the material through his fingers and drapes it over my shoulder. “Don't really need that.” 

“Oh?”

Baz smiles then, really smiles, and offers his hand. I take it, because how can I _not_ , and I want to swoon when he pulls me along up the steps. It's only then that I notice what _he’s_ wearing to the occasion. Dark red slacks, short on the ankles and fitted nicely around his bum (I only look for a moment). He's got on a plain black button up, yes, but damn it to all I may not be able to get my sight off of what those pants do for him for the rest of the night.

“Snow.”

“Huh?” My whole face goes hot. _Looks_ like it goes hot, too, I presume, because he’s got this wicked smirk playing on his lips.

“Eyes up here,” he says quietly. “Come on, then. We’re this way.”

 

**BAZ**

Simon Snow has never been to an actual instrumental concert. He doesn't tell me so, but the way he’s been looking around the concert hall like he’s never seen one before is unquestionable. I can tell he has questions even though he doesn't say anything. It makes my chest buzz with an uncomfortable worry.

I stop him before we get to our seats. “Look… we don't… I didn't really know if you were into this type of thing, so if you're not we can do something else.”

“No!” He turns away from the edge of the balcony overlooking the stage. “I mean, I-I don't really know much at all about music, but you play violin… right?”

“I do.”

He nods. “Yeah, so like… I dunno, I'd rather _stay_ and watch- or-or listen, and like learn or whatever.” I don't know what my expression must look like, but one glance at it and he keeps going. “I mean, um, I quite fancy you a good bit, so I figure I should fancy the type of music you play, too.”

It makes me want to snog him until his face falls off, but we're in public whether we're the only ones in this section or not so instead I grab his face and kiss him quickly. Too quick, apparently, because he pulls me back down before I even get inches away from his face.

I can't say _no_ to it, is the thing. So I let my hands catch on either side of his tie that he’s left draped around his neck and pull him closer. He stumbles (clumsy); his hands plant onto my hips to keep himself straight and he tilts his head up a bit to fit his lips better onto mine. It’s a whole ordeal. It makes me want to ditch the concert. I can't do that to him. Not after wanting to stay solely because it’s something I enjoy.

_I enjoy him, too._

I pull away because it's only fair, but I don't let him get away without getting hold of his chin and pulling his bottom lip down with my thumb.

“You’re a tease,” he says.

“Good,” I say, and take him the rest of the way to our seats.

 

**SIMON**

There's something unbelievably pretty with how an orchestra performs. Their bows moving in the same place at the same time. They're so _loud_ sometimes with only so many people, and even then, they can be so _quiet._ I suppose I'm so fascinated because I was never able to play an instrument like that. I was too aggressive to be as soft and cautious as a violin or string instrument required back when I was younger. I remember Ebb getting me on the drums, but they were too loud when they were being slammed on right in front of my face. Reminded me of thunder storms and late nights.

I blink a few times and shake my head. By the time we get to our seats the performers (instrumentalists?) are getting settled on stage. I didn't realize it before, but we're sitting _behind_ all of them. The only persons face I can see is the conductor.

“Why are we facing this way?”

“It's more interesting” He looks serious until the corner of his lip quirks up. “You can see the conductor in the moment, and it's also funny watching people get in trouble for videotaping during the performance. All you see are the staff who work here frantically running down the aisles and shocking people.”

I don't know what to think about that, nor why they can't video record, but once it starts happening it's funnier than it should be and I have trouble holding in my laugh. Far enough into the performance, Baz seems far from it all. Mentally, that is. “Are you alright?”

It takes him a moment. “Just distracted, I guess.”

If I were a music junkie I wouldn't be able to be distracted during _this._ The staff members, the conductor looking like a madman as he does his thing, the angle in which we can really _see_ the violinists playing away with such a rush. It's not totally my thing, but it's _cool._ And it's _Baz._ This is his _thing._ I've got to learn to understand it if I want there to be something more between us than just snogging all the time. Not that I want _that_ to stop.

“Why? Because of the staff people?”

“Because of _you_.”

Oh.

_Oh._

My face feels hot enough for me to not want to know how red it is. The words alone make me nervous, but Baz's leg is bouncing and I act before I think, pressing my hand on his knee to stop it. He flicks his gaze to me.

“In a good way?”

He looks at my hand, then at the stage for a bit longer, and then at my face again. “Let's get out of here, Simon.”


	8. oh to be young and beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened to the show?” he asks.
> 
> I shrug. “You’re too distracting."

**SIMON**

Baz has me out of my seat before I can get a word in, but his hand is warm in mine and he’s smiling, and as soon as we get into the hallway he grabs my face and kisses me.

I can’t complain, but I’m also confused as fuck.

 

**BAZ**

Simon pulls away and searches my face. He rests his hands over mine on his cheeks. “What happened to the show?” he asks

I shrug. “You’re too distracting,” I say. “I can’t sit silent in there when you’re right next to me.”

His face is warm, but under my hands I can feel embarrassment rushing to his cheeks. “Was that a dirty joke?” He whispers it like a secret. I nearly lose it.

His face is red and his eyes are squinted with the grin his lips are pulled up into. I feel like I should flick his cheek for thinking that, but I can’t bring myself to knock such a good expression off of his face. Says something about how much I like him. “No, it wasn’t. You’re atrocious,” I say, then add on because I feel like I should. “I get tickets to see performances here often since I’m in one of the school’s other ensembles. We can go again another time.”

Simon giggles like I actually _have_ made a dirty joke, and then bites on his bottom lip. “Are you inviting me on a second date?” I roll my eyes. Simon drops his hands to slide around my hips and kisses me again. “Think I'd like to see you perform here sometime,” he whispers. I try to keep my face from literally exploding in a smile, but it only works so much. Instead, I drag myself away from him and keep a loose hold onto his hand to pull him along. “Do you like ice cream?”

He tightens his grip on my hand. My chest clenches.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

* * *

 

Simon Snow _will_ curl around you if given the chance.

We've been sat outside of an ice cream shop on campus for the past few minutes and he's already slinked an arm around me and nearly tucked me into his side. It's either because I visibly shivered and he saw it or because he's cuddly, but I'm hoping for the latter.

“I can't believe I've never known about this place,” he says mid lick of his ice cream cone. “Desserts are normally my forte.”

“My mother used to take me here when I was younger.”

Simon's fingers play with the tips of my hair absentmindedly. “Is she ruthless like you?” I look over at him, but he's grinning.

I look away. “She was, yeah.”

I can feel Simon tense for a split second. “M’sorry.”

“It's alright, you didn't know.”

A long silence spreads between us, but the look on Simon’s face leaves him looking like he wants to say more. When he finally does, his arm around my shoulder tightens. “My mum died a bit after I was born.”

Fuck.

“Simon-”

“It's okay,” he shrugs. He _looks_ fine, but I still feel like an arse. “I'm serious.” He smiles. “We’re more alike than we think, I guess.” It comes out soft, soft enough for me to not hear if I wasn't listening close enough.

“Yeah.”

I lean forward because I've got no self control and kiss Simon so softly that I think it'll kill me. I half expect him to kiss me softly in return but instead he holds my face with one hand and presses his lips harder against mine.

It goes on like that for another minute. I _want_ to push my fingers through his stupid curls. I _want_ to push him onto his back on the bench and I _want_ to drag my lips down his neck, but I don't. Partly because we're in public, but also because he pulls away from me.

“I was kind of a bad boyfriend before.”

What?

“Oh.” Is this his way of telling me that this isn't going past snogging?

He itches behind his ear and continues. “I just, like. Sometimes I don't know what I'm _supposed_ to do, and sometimes I get real busy with work and class, but I-I really like you, Baz.”

Oh?

“Is this your way of asking me out?”

His face gets real red, then, and he shrugs. “Kind of, yes.”

I don't say anything for a second just to see if he's going to try again, but he just bites his lip. “Simon,” I mumble. He meets my eyes. “Will you be my terrible boyfriend?”

I can see the grin breaking through his lips while he rolls his eyes. In one fluid motion he pushes my shoulder away and then pulls me right back in to kiss me. And how the _fuck_ am I supposed to deny _that_?

“Yeah.” He kisses me again. “I’ll be your boyfriend.” And again. “But I'm taking you out to eat tomorrow.” And again.

“Stop talking.”

“Am I annoying you?” He smiles when I try kissing him, so I slip my tongue into his mouth and he hums and finally starts kissing me back.

 

**SIMON**

Baz stuffs his hands into his pockets when he steps up to my front door. I’d _love_ to let him in, but I _am_ capable of self control. First date and all, right?

Then again, we _are_ boyfriends now.

“Do you-” Is that Penny’s car? “My friend is here.” I purse my lips and Baz glances up.

“Yeah, I could see her in the window.” He nudges his chin up. “Wasn't gonna say anything. I don't judge her, though. Her best friend going out with his enemy?”

I smile at that. I can't help it. “Quite the opposite, as of late.” I tug on the lapel of his jacket. He doesn't even stumble forward like I would, he just slides towards me. “I'll text you about breakfast tomorrow morning? We've got our sign language class at twelve.”

He nods. “Sounds good.” And then pulls me in.

* * *

Penny scares me when I finally go inside (and after letting Baz snog me senseless on my front porch) by running out of my room and into the kitchen to greet me.

“What’re you doing here so late?”

She shrugs. “Wanted to hear about your date first thing.” I nod and slip out of my jacket and shoes. “So…? I _saw_ you two kissing outside, Si.”

I smile. My lips are still a tiny bit swollen. “It was great, Pen.” It’s late, and she can wait until tomorrow, so I just shrug and throw my jacket over my shoulder. “I’ve a boyfriend, now, so that's somethin.”

And then she goes crazy.

 

**BAZ**

I collapse in bed that night more excited than I’ve been in a long while. I even bring myself to type out a text that I normally wouldn't care to send.

 

 **Baz (11:37pm):** _I HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW_

 **Niall (11:38pm):** _YES dev that's a 20 for me fucker_

 **Dev (11:40pm):** _fuck you_

 **Baz (11:42pm):** _what the fuck_

 **Baz (11:45pm):** _hello??_

 **Niall (11:48pm):** _c'mon u and snow basically had eye sex every time u looked at one another ever since u met_  

 **Dev (11:50pm):** _even when u guys used to both claim “he hates me”_

 **Baz (11:51pm):** _You're both blithering idiots_


	9. Zoey's Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My boyfriend (12:27pm): I need to ask you something important
> 
> My boyfriend (12:27pm): cats or dogs???

**SIMON**

I really really (really really) like Baz. As expected, of course.

We meet up at one of the breakfast places close by to our class building, and Baz pulls me aside to land me a kiss before we step inside. It makes my chest tingle.

I slip through the door before it closes behind him and grab his hand. I think I startle him, too, because he straightens and looks back at me. “What?” I ask.

Baz, with his typical skeptical expression, smiles a bit. “Nothing,” he says.

We sit outside because it's still nice enough out to do so, and after eating Baz reaches into his pocket. He freezes. “Um… I tend to smoke, sometimes… Just in case you didn't know?”

“I've seen you do it before.”

“I don't have to do it around you, I can always just wait-”

“No, Baz, it's _fine_. I mean, it's bad for you, but I'm not bothered by it,” I say.

He nods, and lights one, and breathes the smoke out to the side. We’re the only ones out here and we've already finished eating, or else I don't think he’d be smoking around other people's food. “I'm an anxious smoker, I'm not like a three packs a day guy-”

“ _Baz._ ”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. It makes me want to ask him what's making him anxious right now that is itching his need to smoke, but I refrain. His shoulders fall after his first drag, so I don't want to. I feel like it’s not my business yet.

After we're done (Baz tries to pay for me, but I don't let him) we head over to our class. And _this_ time we sit side by side.

 

**BAZ**

My mobile has been going off for the past few minutes, and it takes me way too long to realize it probably has something to do with Simon at my side with his phone out under the table. 

 

 **My boyfriend (11:49am):** _hey im bored_

 **My boyfriend (11:49am):** _and we already went over this last week_

 **My boyfriend (11:51am):** _idk why she's going over it AGAIN. too much for my life I could be sleeping rn_

 **My boyfriend (11:53am): *** sent an iMessage game*

 **My boyfriend (11:54am):** _play w me pls i need to sharpen my skills to beat Penny_

 **Baz (11:59am):** _You are insufferable_

 **My boyfriend (12:00pm):** _yes but you like me_

 **Baz (12:02pm):** _Now I can't deny that_

 **Baz (12:03pm):** _And you're right about Possibelf. We did this lesson already, however I don't remember much because I was too busy looking at you the whole time_

 **Baz (12:04pm):** _So I actually have to concentrate right now_

 **My boyfriend (12:06pm):** _okay_

 **My boyfriend (12:08pm):** _wait that was soft <3 _

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 **My boyfriend (12:27pm):** _I need to ask you something important_

 **My boyfriend (12:27pm):** _cats or dogs???_

 **Baz (12:29pm):** _You've gotten quite bold with the texting ever since I asked you to be my boyfriend_

 **My boyfriend (12:30pm):** _shush that doesn't sound like an answer to my question_

 **Baz (12:31):** _I've a terrier named Zoey_

 **My boyfriend (12:30pm):** _OH MY GOD REALLY??_

 **Baz (12:32pm):** _Yes really. Would you like to come meet her after class?_

 **My boyfriend (12:33pm):** _is that even a question? YES_

 **Baz (12:35pm):** _Alright alright_

 

**SIMON**

Baz's flat is clean and simple, but it's impossible not to notice the little things here and there that make it his. Like the music covered violin stand and closed case in which I assume holds the instrument itself. The coffee stained mugs on his counter and in his sink, or the array of unorganized books and films on the shelf of the television stand. The many throw blankets help too, I suppose, but I'm just too distracted by wanting to see if I can smell Baz on them.

 _Oh_ , and the dog bed and toys scattered around the living area. That's got to be my favorite part.

It gets even better when a small dog comes running down the hall and to Baz. He squats down in front of me, god bless my eyes, and rubs behind her ears. He picks her up. “This is miss Zoey, the one and only.”

She's a chubby little thing (at least little compared to the big chocolate lab that Uncle Nicky used to have), with a scrunched up face and grey around her whiskers. Her big brown eyes are pleading, so I scratch behind her ears and smooth my thumb back and forth along her soft cheek.

I love this dog.

“She's _precious_ , Baz!”

   

**BAZ**

I set Zoey down and she goes right over to stand sideways in front of Simon. He pats her belly, but as soon as he stops she turns in a circle until she's right back in the same position. “She'll do that all day, I swear,” I say. “She thrives for attention and tummy rubs.”

Simon just smiles up at me from where he's knelt down on the floor. It's heartwarming and nerving all the same. I didn’t put much thought into inviting him over to my flat for the first time. Dev’s been telling me that I’ve got to stop thinking too hard into things.  I think I should be telling him to stop butting into my love-life so much. It’s only nearly just begun, after all I’ve only had one other boyfriend before.

Simon stands again, this time with Zoey all in his arms. She looks halfway between loved and smug (for a dog, at the least). If I‘m honest, I’m a tad bit jealous. She hates when _I_ pick her up.

“Film?” It's the only thing I can think to offer off of the top of my head. As in, I need something to distract myself.

But Snow just frowns. “You can work on the project for our sign language class, if you'd like. I saw you make a note earlier to start it.”

He's right. I _do_ need to get started on that, but I'd much prefer to lounge on the sofa with him and watch something that he'll inevitably talk and hold my hand through. It's a very soft and domestic thought, which might be what frightens me that tiny bit.

So, we put on a film instead. One of the Marvel ones, not that I'm super into them. I'm perfectly satisfied with leaning against Simon's shoulder, sturdy like an unmoving weight. There's something trusting about it, having someone holding you up. It's more than just physical.

Zoey is lying on my lap as if she's a lap dog (she most definitely is not). She jumps off a bit into the film, and almost as soon as she's gone Simon reaches for the closest hand of mine (I'd been petting her absentmindedly instead, like an idiot). His hands are always bigger than I expect, every bloody time, but his fingers are smooth and he has this habit of rubbing my hand with his thumb. It's utterly endearing.

“Hey,” he says.

I try to pay attention to the film. “Yeah?”

Snow pulls on my hand and turns my face with the other. It's all very film-like.

Which of course I can't help but ruin by grabbing onto his collar and kissing him. He grunts when he falls into me (I'm quite strong) and let's go off my hand to wrap his arm around me.

 

**SIMON**

Baz is a really good kisser.

And a really good everything else-er.

That sounded stupid, nevermind.

He climbed into my lap a while ago (thank goodness his sofa is wide enough for us), and our lips are both confidently red and probably a tad swollen.

I don't mind. Especially when he pushes a hand through my hair and kisses down my neck. I grunt when he nips the skin just under my ear, and then groan when I accidentally buck my hips up into his a bit.

I hold onto Baz's hips. He pulls off just enough to say in my ear, “Blowjobs would be amazing right about now,” and rolls his hips down.

“If you do that again _you_ won't get one.”

  



	10. something about lying here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow coming over to take naps in my bed while I study across the room has become a common occurrence. 
> 
> I can't complain.

**BAZ**

Snow coming over to take naps in my bed while I study across the room has become a common occurrence. Most of his work gets done on those awfully timed hours he works at the library, anyway, and since most of his classes with Bunce don't overlap it leaves him more room to come bother me instead. 

I can't complain, I like that he feels comfortable at my place.

But he can't complain either, I suppose. Sometimes when I'm done or need a break I go sit on his lap and kiss him. Or his neck. He has a mole where his shoulder meets his neck. I enjoy treating it like a target.

Today, when I sit on him, I shake his shoulders. Because I’m bored, and he's my boyfriend; he signed up for this. He groans and pulls me down so that I fall to his side, where he promptly wraps himself around me.

I freeze.

I can't help it. The last (and only) time I even had someone to cuddle with, I was the one doing the cuddling, not the other way around. My boyfriend at the time was shorter and smaller than me, so I'd taken the seemingly fitting role of the big spoon and such. He’d said, I remember, that “I literally couldn't see you ever being on _my_ side of these things, Baz. You're all tall and dominant.”

But I don't think I am. Not with _this_ sort of thing, anyway. Plus, I _like_ this. Being on the other side. I _like_ being held by Simon Snow.

The other thing, the sex thing, is another thing worrying me (like who will be _where_ doing _what_. I sound like an idiot), but that's not something for me to stress over right now. 

“You alright?” Snow’s voice makes me jump and hold on tighter to the arm he's got tucked against my chest. Or that _I've_ got tucked to my chest. I don't recall grabbing on in the first place. It reminds me of when we went to the ice cream shop, how he tucked himself into me. This is quite different.

I almost tell him that I'm fine, which I _am_ \- but then I remember all the times I’d shut my ex-boyfriend out (he was a prick, but no matter) so I sit up and face him. Simon's hand falls to my thigh. “I was just thinking about how I was the one in your spot in my last relationship.”

Snow's face goes through a few stages; confusion, realization, and then discomfort. “Oh… well, what one are you more comfortable with?”

The one that makes this conversation disappear. “I like being under you,” I say. 

I'm surprised that I say it. Sure, I've gotten off with something other than my hand, if you know what I mean, but I've never actually had sex as a bottom before. I just know that I only thought I liked topping before because my ex never let us switch, and I was never brave enough to ask. I don't _like_ being in charge. Not in this scenario

Snow smiles, slow and sure, but doesn't move yet. “This is when you come hold me again, Snow.”

That kicks him into action. He grabs my arms and pulls me onto the _other_ side of him instead of lying down how we just had been, the drama queen. I'm still sitting up, and he only gets me so far over his lap before I give up and tug him close by his collar to kiss him.

And then, because I suppose I haven't had enough revelations about myself today, Simon pushes me down onto my back and moves so that he's holding himself up above me. He's got this soft smile that I'd normally be enamored by, but the only thing I can think of is what his body is doing to mine in this moment.

I run a hand through his hair. “Hey, hey.” I interrupt whatever he was saying; something about how he likes holding me. “Kiss me, yeah?”

Not that I pull him down, but he lies with a knee in between my legs as soon as I tug on his collar, so it makes me feel like I've still got a _bit_ of control.

I've got my hand in his hair (I hope he lets it grow out) and the other around the back of his neck. Simon slips his tongue into my mouth, it takes everything in me not to groan. Especially when he pulls away with dark lips and a flushed face. “I have to go soon to get ready for rugby.”

“You don't have to go to the match,” I say. “You can just stay here.” I reach up to kiss him. He indulges it for a minute but pulls away again.

“As much as I enjoy snoggin you.” I kiss him again. “I also don't want to miss this match.”

I twist a finger in one of his curls (they're addicting). “Fine, are you working tonight?” He nods, I groan. “That's bloody annoying.”

“Bring some studying and visit me?” I nod; of course I nod, he's too bloody well gorgeous to not want to see him later.

 

**SIMON**

I play very well in the match, and if I'm being honest I think it's because I'm trying to impress Baz. I don't _need_ to, now that I've actually got him, but I still want him to think I'm better at rugby than I actually am. Plus, he gets all hot and bothered when he sees me in my uniform. I've been begging to see him in his footie uniform, but he just keeps telling me I have to wait until their practices start to see him in _anything_ football related. It drives me nuts.

Baz claps whenever we do good, and raises a brow at anything good the other team does. There's so much sass in his eyebrows it's ridiculous. I'd like him to teach me how to raise a single one. It's all or nothing in my brow game, if you know what I mean.

 

**BAZ**

Football with always be the best sport on the planet, but rugby comes in a good second. And it's _not_ just because of how terrific Simon's bum looks in his shorts. They're a size too small, I know it. Just shows off all the assets. _My_ assets, as of now.

He comes smiling off of the field once they're done. Sweaty and happy and bloody gorgeous. They'd lost, but you'd never be able to tell by his face. 

“Such a good match. They're real good,” he says when he gets close enough and pulls me in for a hug. He's wet with sweat (I'll have to change my shirt when I get home) but I wrap my arms around him anyway. “Thank you for coming.”

“You're welcome.” As if I'd miss it. “You looked good out there.”

And then, he becomes the most torturous person ever with simple words. “You _like_ a man in a sports uniform, huh?” he whispers and squeezes my side. “Bet you'd like it somewhere else right now, though.”

I laugh- and I mean _really_ laugh. Harder than I have in a while, and smack his arm. He cowers away cackling and clutching his chest.

“You _arse_ !” I grab his hand and pull him along to leave. It's cold as fuck out here, but my smile and blushed up cheeks keep my face warn. “You get _nothing_ smelling like _that._ ”

 

As unfortunate as it is, Snow and I don't actually get into anything when we go back to his place so that he can shower and change. He has work in an hour, so with how far it takes to get to the library from his flat it doesn't leave much room.

I didn't realize that I'd never been to his place before until I sat down on his bed while he showered. It freaked me out a bit. Someone's bedroom can be so personal, and I'd taken home to his so easily.

I took a look at the many pictures he'd had up on his desk and drawers. Ones of him and his mum, him and Penelope, group photos, farm animals (I decide not to question it. There's got to be an explanation that's just not been relevant yet). He looks so _happy_ in all of them, it makes my heart swell.

His comforter smelled so good. It smells good _now_ , too. Now that we're tucked into it, his wet hair on his forehead and an arm around me. He'd done _that_ one without even thinking. Just wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close to him. He's very warm, it's comforting.

I press a kiss wherever I can reach first, his jaw. I don't want to bring it up, but I'll have to say it at one point or another, and I'd much rather give him a heads up. “As much as it pains me, I'll have to restrict you from coming over to see my dog this weekend. My aunt is visiting and I'd rather you _not_ have to deal with her while she's here.”

Simon throws his ankle over mine. I knock it back down. “What if I wanted to see that bloke Basil that lives there?” Oh yeah, that's become a thing as well. Calling me Basil. Not many people call me by it outside of my family. Well, besides Niall and Dev, occasionally. I don’t quite think they count.

“I can promise you that I’m not going to put you through the hell of meeting my family just yet.”

“Surely they're not as bad as you think.” He puts his ankle up again, then shrugs. “I'd let you meet my _mum_ if you wanted. Far worse than an aunt.”

Wait. “Slow down there, Snow.” I can't believe it's come to this after only two week- okay no, I believe it. Two weeks is long enough. I sit up to face him. “Do you _want_ me to meet your mum?” 

He shrugs again. “Sure, why not. She likes nearly everyone anyway. Only person she can't stand is my dad.”

I shouldn't budge my way in, I know I’d hate it if he'd done it to me, but I can't help it. “Divorced?”

He looks confused when I say it, and I regret it until he gives a soft _oh_. “No, no. Um, I'm adopted.” I regret it again. I'm an arsehole “Grew up in the system until my mum fostered me out in primary school. Biological mum died a bit after I was born, Dad found me again when I was about fifteen and tried to get me to live with him and all. Didn't end real well. Haven't seen him since,” he says it as if it's just a little detail, not a whole part of his life.

I frown. How can I _not._ “I’m sorry he didn't stick around for you.”

 

**SIMON**

I need to get better at telling stories. Or facts, whatever. Either way, I've already confused Baz twice in one minute without meaning to.

I scratch my chin. “Um, no, he stayed around once he found me, but he was like… harmful, so mum and I got a restraining order on him.” Baz frowns even deeper. “No! No, it's okay, though, I swear. We never got on in the first place.”

“I'm still sorry. I'm an idiot, Simon, you realize that right,” he says. “Next time just tell me to shut my bloody mouth.”

I hold his hand. I can't help it, it's there, open on his knee, and we’re dating, anyway. He squeezes my fingers. “It's fine, Baz. My mum getting me out of the system was the best thing to happen, even with my dad finding me.”

 

**BAZ**

I stare at Simon (he’s such a lovely sight), and he cocks his head. “If that's your pity face then I don't wanna see it.”

I _do_ feel sorry for what he’s gone through earlier in his life, but that’s the last thing I was thinking just then. He _knows_ he's in a good place now, there's no need for sadness. I raise a brow. “My father is also a dick who doesn't approve of my career path or of me being queer, and my mother died when I was young. This is _not_ my pity face.”

Snow purses his lips and nods. “Good,” he says, then “And I’m not scared of your dad.” He smiles. 

I think about it, partially because I want to see Simon standing up to my father but also because I kind of can't possibly imagine him needing to. A person like Simon isn't someone that you try to intimidate. “Is it weird that I slightly have an interest in seeing you stand up to my father?”

For a moment I believe he’ll laugh and say _maybe_ , but he just grins and falls into his back, pulling me with him. “Don't think so. I quite like the thought of you helping mum with dinner or something, anyway.”


	11. no need to hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She'd support me no matter what, which is why I'm not worried about you meeting her. You're already safe because you're not a ‘no matter what’ type of deal.”
> 
> “What am I, then?”
> 
> “I'm not giving you the satisfaction of making me all soft right now.”

**BAZ**

We stop into one of the offices on the way from Snow's shift. Because, of all people, he lost his. I'm not surprised, just disappointed. I'd much rather be at my place with him.

The woman asks for his name with no glance to me when I slide up next to him. She really is something, if I'm honest. I've never seen a human so uninterested in life- and I've got a father made of stone.

“Simon Salisbury.”

Wait.

“What?”

I'm almost certain putting a false name on an identification card isn't allowed, probably illegal. And when the woman looks up I'm afraid she's going to tell him there's no one by that name, but she just nods. “Same as the other one? Just Simon Snow on it?”

What the bloody hell is going on?

Simon nods, and the woman has him fill something out to ensure he's who he says he is before going off to the back to print a new one.

“What was that about _Salisbury_?”

He smiles, the bugger. He _knows_ I'm confused. “It's my last name. Don't use it for anything other than legal stuff.”

“And may I ask why I never knew Snow _wasn't_ your surname?”

“Never came up?” He shrugs. “Dunno. When mum adopted me we had the option to change my last name to hers, but she let me choose. Either hers, my dad's, or my other mum's.” He gives me a glance and slides the paper across the desk for whenever the woman returns. “S’why I'm not worried about you meeting her. We've got restraining orders on my dad and she _still_ gave my the option to change my last name to his if I wanted. She'd support me no matter what, and you're already safe because you are _not_ a ‘no matter what’ type of deal.”

“What _am_ I, then?”

“I'm not giving you the satisfaction of making me all soft right now.”

I snicker and nudge his arm. “She sounds sweet, anyway. Who's name is Salisbury?”

“My biological mum's. It's what I'd had all my life so why change it, you know? Made me feel a bit closer to her, even though I don't remember her, but I also don't really have any connection other than that.”

We get to Simon's car, an old thing with faded colors, and I stop on the curb. “Would you ever try to find family on her side of the family? Since you know her name?”

 

**SIMON**

I don't let myself think about this type of thing often. I _used_ to think about it more than anything. Back when I was still in care homes and wondered what my parents were doing right then. Wishing they were celebrities and that they'd come back to get me and tell me how hard it was to leave, but that it was better for me.

But then I got fostered and eventually adopted, and I realized that if they'd wanted me then they would have come already.

And _then_ Davy got in contact with Mum, and we met with him, and it was the most disappointed I'd ever been before.

“I don't think so,” I say. “Don't want the disappointment, you know? Sometimes I get nervous about people in her family finding _me_ and being like my dad. S’why I don't use my last name.”

Baz squeezes my hand. “So Snow is…?”

“My middle name, yeah.” I giggle to myself. “I like it, but you _have_ been calling me by my middle name all this time.”

“Big deal, everyone I know calls me by my middle name. I'm still hung up over the face that I didn't know your last name.”

Huh? “Who calls you by your middle name? What is it?”

 

**BAZ**

Simon Snow _Salisbury_ is indeed the idiot that I thought he was all along. I suppose it makes up for me not knowing his surname, but at least he gets a good laugh out of my name. _Tyrannus_. Calls me a dinosaur. It's a tragic conversation.

Fiona arrives almost an hour after Simon drops me off at my place. He'd come inside to see Zoey real quick before going all weekend without her and I. How sweet. As much as I forced myself not to admit it, I loved the attention. And as much as I adore him, I've _still_ decided not to tell Fi about Simon. Not yet. After all, the first time she'd seen him I'd told her that I didn't like him. It was a lie, of course, so I really don't need her bugging me about how I'm now dating him. Quite embarrassing that is for me.

She's only got a backpack with her, typical, and drops it by the door when she walks in. “Where's the dog?” She looks joyful.

“My room.”

And said joy disappears. “I really thought you'd get rid of it. Cats are a much better companion, Basil.” It's the same argument she's made since I got Zoey eight years ago, I've learned to tune it out.

I walk around her to get to the kitchen because I've got food cooking that I'd rather not ruin. It takes her a while to join me, but when she does it makes me freeze just long enough for the pasta to start boiling over. Another thing for me to clean up. “Cold already? The heat _is_ working.” I can play this off.

She shrugs, looking down at the jumper she's put on. _Simon's_ jumper. “Boyfriend plays rugby?”

Fucking hell.

I turn back to the stove again. “Don't have one, Fi.”

She snorts. “Yes you _so_ do. You and your two numpty friends play football, not rugby. There's contact solution in your toilet for the first time ever considering you don't wear them, a _comic_ book on the table, a note on the counter that says ‘ _have fun with aunt this weekend’,_ and you also just got a text message from someone called ‘ _my boyfriend’_. I'm a dumbass, not an outright idiot.”

What the absolute bloody _fuck_.

I try not to let my irritation show, but my fingers twitch anyway. I mean, it's kind of my fault, not putting away his jumper or comic. And the note, that by the way I literally have not seen at all yet.

“So I'm seeing someone, s’not a big deal.” I dish out plates for the two of us. Fiona sits at the counter after taking Simon's jumper off (I knew she'd only put it on to make a statement), and points her knife at me.

“Don't point my own cutlery at me.”

“I'm making a statement.”

“You didn't say anything.”

“Was fucking chewing, wasn't I?” she says. “It _is_ a big deal. First relationship and all.”

It's going to be a long night if she finds my wine like she normally does. “I've had one before, Fi.”

“Yes but it lasted three months and you never brought him round to the house or introduced him to anyone.” 

What? “I haven't done any of those things with _this_ one, either!”

“But you're _going_ to, yes?” She puts her fork down and plays around on her phone. “You think I don't keep tabs on you up here, but you've posted on social media more in the last month than you had all summer. Most of them being of this one, Simon. He ‘av a last name? S’not in his Instagram.”

“Oh my god.”

The counter is cold against my forehead. Maybe if I bang against it hard enough it'll give me just enough amnesia to forget this conversation. But then I'll forget Simon's kiss when he left this morning. I'd rather keep _that_ memory, if anything.

There's no way of getting out of my aunt's questioning, so I suck it up instead. “Salisbury. Doesn't use his last name, though.”

Fiona doesn't question it.

 _I_ questioned it, obviously.

She stared at her phone for a moment, then quieter, says “He treats you nicely, Basil? Cause I'll give him a talking to if needed.”

I notice it then, and not just because of her words. The whole teasing me about past blokes and about Simon, why she does it and why she asks and asks and asks so much regardless of if she actually gets anything out of me. I can see it in her bloody eyes. My mother isn't around to ask me about boys and give them the “if you hurt my son” speech, and I know fuck all of my father and Daphne care enough to do so. Fiona's the only person who's ever been so interested in my personal life.

Not that I need protecting, I'm quite capable, but it's the thought.

“He treats me good, Fi.”

She nods and continues eating, only to stop a few minutes later. “Am I gonna get around to meeting him or what?”

I shake my head no and think back to what Simon had said a few days prior.

 _He shrugs and quirks a smile, “Surely they're not as bad as you think.”_    

“Fine. But not today.”


	12. you're butterflies in my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's late enough that people aren't roaming my street, so I stop and dip down to kiss Simon out of the blue. He hums and grabs the back of my neck. “What's that for? I just told you I used to think you were an arse.”

**FIONA**

I  _ told _ him that I've got some work to do, so why he's still here desperately trying to pay attention to the television is beyond me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Watching television.”

He's being polite. It's bloody annoying. I'm not some special guest he needs to provide shit for. I'm the irritating aunt he grew up surrounded by that teases and bothers him for stupid shit. Would it kill him to go have some fun? Lord knows he  _ used _ to sneak out on me and his parents all the time.

Besides, this used to be my flat before I moved. I  _ do _ know where everything I'd need is at.

So, I scoff. And he's got his mother's look when he raises that brow at me. “ _ What? _ ”

I kick his legs off of the ottoman. “No shit you're watching telly. I'll be doing this for another two hours, so just go snog and fool around with your boyfriend.”

Basil kicks my thigh from the other end of the sofa. Fucking long legs. “ _ That  _ shit is the reason why I didn't tell you about him,” he says, but gets up all the same.

 

**BAZ**

I roll my eyes, of course, but get up off of the sofa regardless. If the offer’s on the table, I’d be crazy to sit in silence in front of the television rather than go see my boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Still not over that.

It's only eight. He’ll be working for another hour. Plenty of time to get myself there.

 

**SIMON**

There's not many people in the library as it is, but the absolute last person I expect to come in is Baz.

“Hey,” he says as he walks towards me. I rest my chin in my hand and smile.

“Can't say I saw  _ this _ coming. Where's your aunt?”

He shrugs. “She's doing some work at my place. She found out about you, so she told me to come here.”

“I already like her, then.”

Baz smiles. He's so lovely when he smiles. He looks like a prince, truly. Whether it's dressed in suits or these joggers that look a few years past their due date of getting tossed out.

He hasn't brought anything with him but his mobile and himself, which means I get his full attention for a full forty minutes. Surely more than I thought I'd be getting this weekend. I stand and lean forward. “I'd take you up to the third floor, you know, but there's a whole group up there for once.”

Baz props his hands on the desk and leans closer. He's  _ still _ taller than me when leaning over. It's all in those legs of his.

“A damn shame, that is,” he whispers. “Just have to ravish you right here, then.”

“Basil!” I shove his shoulder. What a tosser. “Arse.”

He shrugs, and walks around to my side of the desk. I turn as he comes, so that I lean back against the desk. I expect him to close me in, like some unrealistic romance drama where they snog and the bloke lifts his girl to sit onto the desk. And then he stands between her legs and kisses her like there's no tomorrow.

I want that. Someday. Maybe at home instead of in an office or a library, but still.

I  _ don't _ get that, but I don't even care. Instead Baz grabs my hands and turns me with him so that  _ he's _ leaning back against the desk and I get the chance to box him in, if I so choose.

I do.

He drops my hands, but I grab onto the cuffs of his jumper and bring his fingers back to me.

He smirks. “If you wanna kiss me so bad, then do it.”

I mean. No one's _ really _ paying attention to us. So  _ what _ if someone catches a glance. “Fine.” It's not like my manager is even here, anyway.

Baz is finally shorter than me like this, and tilts his chin up when I kiss him. He snakes his hand up my neck and tugs on my hair. I grunt (can't help myself) and it must satisfy him because he smiles against my mouth.

“You have to go back to your aunt after I'm done here?” Baz nods and kisses me again. “I could walk you home and meet her real quick. You know, just to prove your family isn't as bad as you think.” He scrunches his nose at that.

“Or you can wait until I'm ready.”

“Yeah,” I say. That’s fair. “I can do that.”

 

**BAZ**

Simon insists on at least walking me back to my flat after his shift is over, seeing as it's close enough to his anyway. At first I say no, that my aunt would for sure lurk from the window, but there's only so much I can do to not give in to that face. 

When did I get so weak? I remember when we used to annoy the absolute shit out of each other purely because we liked one another.

I wonder how long he even liked me beforehand.

“Snow?”

“Salisbury,” he says.

“You better cut the shit with that one, first off. I'll bloody well call you what I like.” He elbows my side. “When did you first fancy me?”

He thinks for a moment, but I'm not sure if he's actually thinking about it or thinking about whether or not he wants to say it.

“Remember when I sat next to you on the first day of class?”

“So later than me, I take it.” We're already dating, there's no use in keeping the information to myself.

“I just thought you were right fit at first, and then you kept being a twat and I think I just got a schoolgirl crush on you.  Felt like an idiot every time I saw you.”

It's late enough that people aren't roaming my street, so I stop and dip down to kiss Simon out of the blue. He hums and grabs the back of my neck. “What's that for? I just told you I used to think you were an arse.”

I kiss him again. “Already knew that.” He has this one curl that always ends up falling on his forehead at the end of the day. I push it back. “I just quite like you.”

“Since when, huh? Said longer than me.”

“Right before exams at the end of July. Ran into you at the Starbucks that used to be on campus and kept seeing you there studying. Never noticed me, though.”

Simon looks bewildered. “Seriously? How did I never see you?”

The same way you never noticed that I only came to the library to see you. “You're quite oblivious when you'd like to be, Snow.”

 

**FIONA**

He must think I'm an idiot. I can hear him and his bloke outside the door. I told myself I wouldn't look out the window like a creeper, but this is beyond ridiculous. They're not even being loud or obnoxious, just bloody fucking stupid.

Basil’s face drops when he walks in and sees me on the sofa. “Oh… You're still up?”

“Why the fuck wouldn't I be up? Was doing work just like I told you.”

That fucking brow. He gets it from my sister. She used to pull that on our parents more than she should have.

“It's nearly eleven o'clock.”

Since when did it get so late? Surely I would've remembered that. I try not to get so into my work anymore. It used to drive me nuts. I'd lose sleep over this shit all the time. Literally.

“Fine. But don't think you're all slick. I could hear you and pretty boy loud and clear from here.”

Basil's face goes red before he huffs and walks off. Thank god I get away with this shit with him. That's what happens when you're the kids only aunt.


End file.
